


Don't need your superpowers (just your hands)

by tictactoews



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tictactoews/pseuds/tictactoews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is hurt and stubborn, but Steve ain't having it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't need your superpowers (just your hands)

**Author's Note:**

> A short thing written for a h/c fic party on LJ, thought I'd share here as well. This is short and silly and inexcusably, teeth-rottingly fluffy.

Tony almost never regrets giving Steve a blanket permission to hang out in his workshop any time he wants. It's just -- it seemed like the thing to do if he didn't want to jeopardize this tentative _thing_ they've managed to create between them. Tony is reluctant to call it a friendship just yet, but if he has anything to say in the matter - and he has a lot to say in every matter, he's Tony Stark - they're getting there. Slowly. 

Another thing is - Steve isn't really an annoyance. Just a quiet presence on a bench under the wall. Tony doesn't even see him most of the time, too busy tinkering with his work, and he wouldn't even know Steve was there if it weren't for the quiet scritch-scratch of pencil on paper as Steve draws in his sketchbook.

Tony will admit that the drawing he did of Dummy, looking proud with a hot pink ribbon tied around his metal strut, was terribly cute. He will, however, never admit to having hung it in his closet.

There are times, though, when he can actually _feel_ Steve's presence in the room, even - especially - when he's not making any noise. That always means he's looking at Tony, and most likely _disapproving_ of something.

Nothing throws Tony off his game quite like a disapproving Captain America.

"What?" Tony snaps, turning around to look straight at him. The bastards doesn't even seem apologetic, just frowns a little more, and _dammit,_ what did Tony do this time?

"Why didn't you tell me your shoulder was still bothering you? Bruce could help you, or maybe SHIE--"

"Because it's not," Tony interrupts him. 

"You're barely using your left arm, and you're movements are very stiff," Steve accuses him. Tony swallows the obvious joke - too easy - and sighs heavily, then promptly winces as the deep breath makes his ribs ache, still sore from the nasty fall he took in battle a few days ago.

"I'm not letting the SHIELD monkeys prod at me just because I have a crick in the neck, Cap. And Bruce has his own shit to deal with."

"Tony, you're in pain."

Tony forgoes the "Captain Obvious" joke as well. He makes a mental note to tell Pepper about that, he's sure it counts as personal growth.

"I'm fine. I'll take some Advil and be good as new."

Steve puts his sketchbook aside and walks over to Tony. "Are you sure it's not fractured?" he asks, touching Tony's shoulder gingerly. Tony jerks away and hisses - Steve's touch didn't hurt, but the sudden movement did. He doesn't feel like explaining his reaction, though, so he lets Steve misinterpret it.

"Sorry," Steve winces, flexing his hand at his side and looking at Tony with worry in his puppy eyes.

"It's okay. And yes, I'm sure, I've had enough injuries to know when it's serious. This is not, just some pulled muscles and maybe a cramp or two. Really, I'll be fine."

"Maybe if you got a massage?"

"What? No, I mean, assuming it's not one of your euphemisms, no. I need that shoulder, I won't trust a stranger--"

"Do you trust me?" Steve asks, and _what?_

Dammit, but Tony can't be rude to Steve when he looks this earnest. "I-- Yeah, I do, you know I do, Cap."

"Then let me try. I know a few things, and if it hurts or doesn't help, you can tell me to stop. Okay?"

Tony sighs. "Will that shut you up about me taking care of myself?"

Steve grins. "Not a chance," and Tony huffs out a laugh.

"Yeah, fair enough. Okay, work your magic. Here?" he asks, looking over at the oil-stained sofa sitting in the corner.

"You're kidding me, right? We're going to your bedroom."

"Why Captain, never pictured you to be so straightforward," Tony teases as they walk to the elevator.

To Tony's endless delight, Steve blushes. "Tony, if you want your vertebrae to stay in the order they were intended..."

"Okay, okay, done joking," Tony relents, grinning, as they ride the elevator to Tony's floor of the Avengers Tower.

Once they're in Tony's bedroom, Steve asks Jarvis to dim the lights, and orders Tony to take off his shirt. Tony doesn't make a crack only because he finds taking off his t-shirt much more challenging than he'd care for.

"So your shoulder's fine, huh?" Steve says, exasperated, as he moves to help Tony get out of the problematic piece of clothing. "Alright, lay down on your stomach and try to relax."

Tony has every intention to do just that, but he fails to predict the effect that the weight and warmth of one super soldier will have on him, once he's straddling Tony's hips and all but sitting on his ass. 

Steve's hands slide lightly up his back to his shoulders, and Tony lets out a stuttering breath, closing his eyes. Steve's hands are warm and surprisingly soft, although he supposes that makes sense - Steve always fights in gloves, and Tony designed them himself, including the soft padding inside. 

Tony groans when Steve's fingers dig more forcefully into the knots on his back and shoulders. 

"Am I hurting you?" Steve asks, stilling his hands.

"No, no, feels... good," Tony says, and that's all the coherence he can muster under the circumstances. It seems to be enough for Steve, because he chuckles lowly and resumes his ministrations, slowly working out all the knots in Tony's muscles, until he's loose and pliant and all but melting into the mattress. 

"You okay there?" Steve asks, running a hand through Tony's hair, and Tony cracks one eye open to look at him. Steve looks a little flushed, but he's smiling, apparently satisfied with the state of relaxation that Tony presents right now. Hell, he _is_ a state of relaxation.

"Mmm," Tony confirms, smiling back. He feels like his higher brain functions are still offline, and he doesn't even mind. "Think 'm gonna go to sleep."

"Good," Steve says. "And if I see you in your workshop before nine in the morning, I will personally drag you back here."

"Promises, promises," Tony mutters, already half asleep.

Steve laughs, and pushes himself off of Tony to leave, and well, that is just unacceptable. 

"Staaay," Tony definitely _doesn't_ whine as he tugs on Steve's hand. So what if he turns into a needy five-year-old when he's too relaxed, that will teach Steve to leave him as tense as he wants to be in the future.

Steve doesn't say anything, just lies beside Tony, drags a comforter over the both of them and gathers Tony up in his arms, holding him tightly.

Tony knows they will have to talk about this, but seeing as Steve is currently stroking his hair and pressing a goodnight kiss to his forehead, Tony has a feeling the conversation is going to go just fine.


End file.
